Chapter 19

by Jack London

　　Chapter XIX

　　I came on deck to find the Ghost heading up close on the port tackand cutting in to windward of a familiar spritsail close-hauled onthe same tack ahead of us. All hands were on deck, for they knewthat something was to happen when Leach and Johnson were draggedaboard.

　　It was four bells. Louis came aft to relieve the wheel. There wasa dampness in the air, and I noticed he had on his oilskins.

　　"What are we going to have?" I asked him.

　　"A healthy young slip of a gale from the breath iv it, sir," heanswered, "with a splatter iv rain just to wet our gills an' nomore."

　　"Too bad we sighted them," I said, as the Ghost's bow was flung offa point by a large sea and the boat leaped for a moment past thejibs and into our line of vision.

　　Louis gave a spoke and temporized. "They'd never iv made the land,sir, I'm thinkin'."

　　"Think not?" I queried.

　　"No, sir. Did you feel that?" (A puff had caught the schooner,and he was forced to put the wheel up rapidly to keep her out ofthe wind.) "'Tis no egg-shell'll float on this sea an hour come,an' it's a stroke iv luck for them we're here to pick 'em up."

　　Wolf Larsen strode aft from amidships, where he had been talkingwith the rescued men. The cat-like springiness in his tread was alittle more pronounced than usual, and his eyes were bright andsnappy.

　　"Three oilers and a fourth engineer," was his greeting. "But we'llmake sailors out of them, or boat-pullers at any rate. Now, whatof the lady?"

　　I know not why, but I was aware of a twinge or pang like the cut ofa knife when he mentioned her. I thought it a certain sillyfastidiousness on my part, but it persisted in spite of me, and Imerely shrugged my shoulders in answer.

　　Wolf Larsen pursed his lips in a long, quizzical whistle.

　　"What's her name, then?" he demanded.

　　"I don't know," I replied. "She is asleep. She was very tired.In fact, I am waiting to hear the news from you. What vessel wasit?"

　　"Mail steamer," he answered shortly. "The City of Tokio, from'Frisco, bound for Yokohama. Disabled in that typhoon. Old tub.Opened up top and bottom like a sieve. They were adrift four days.And you don't know who or what she is, eh? - maid, wife, or widow?Well, well."

　　He shook his head in a bantering way, and regarded me with laughingeyes.

　　"Are you - " I began. It was on the verge of my tongue to ask ifhe were going to take the castaways into Yokohama.

　　"Am I what?" he asked.

　　"What do you intend doing with Leach and Johnson?"

　　He shook his head. "Really, Hump, I don't know. You see, withthese additions I've about all the crew I want."

　　"And they've about all the escaping they want," I said. "Why notgive them a change of treatment? Take them aboard, and deal gentlywith them. Whatever they have done they have been hounded intodoing."

　　"By me?"

　　"By you," I answered steadily. "And I give you warning, WolfLarsen, that I may forget love of my own life in the desire to killyou if you go too far in maltreating those poor wretches."

　　"Bravo!" he cried. "You do me proud, Hump! You've found your legswith a vengeance. You're quite an individual. You wereunfortunate in having your life cast in easy places, but you'redeveloping, and I like you the better for it."

　　His voice and expression changed. His face was serious. "Do youbelieve in promises?" he asked. "Are they sacred things?"

　　"Of course," I answered.

　　"Then here's a compact," he went on, consummate actor. "If Ipromise not to lay my hands upon Leach will you promise, in turn,not to attempt to kill me?"

　　"Oh, not that I'm afraid of you, not that I'm afraid of you," hehastened to add.

　　I could hardly believe my ears. What was coming over the man?

　　"Is it a go?" he asked impatiently.

　　"A go," I answered.

　　His hand went out to mine, and as I shook it heartily I could havesworn I saw the mocking devil shine up for a moment in his eyes.

　　We strolled across the poop to the lee side. The boat was close athand now, and in desperate plight. Johnson was steering, Leachbailing. We overhauled them about two feet to their one. WolfLarsen motioned Louis to keep off slightly, and we dashed abreastof the boat, not a score of feet to windward. The Ghost blanketedit. The spritsail flapped emptily and the boat righted to an evenkeel, causing the two men swiftly to change position. The boatlost headway, and, as we lifted on a huge surge, toppled and fellinto the trough.

　　It was at this moment that Leach and Johnson looked up into thefaces of their shipmates, who lined the rail amidships. There wasno greeting. They were as dead men in their comrades' eyes, andbetween them was the gulf that parts the living and the dead.

　　The next instant they were opposite the poop, where stood WolfLarsen and I. We were falling in the trough, they were rising onthe surge. Johnson looked at me, and I could see that his face wasworn and haggard. I waved my hand to him, and he answered thegreeting, but with a wave that was hopeless and despairing. It wasas if he were saying farewell. I did not see into the eyes ofLeach, for he was looking at Wolf Larsen, the old and implacablesnarl of hatred strong as ever on his face.

　　Then they were gone astern. The spritsail filled with the wind,suddenly, careening the frail open craft till it seemed it wouldsurely capsize. A whitecap foamed above it and broke across in asnow-white smother. Then the boat emerged, half swamped, Leachflinging the water out and Johnson clinging to the steering-oar,his face white and anxious.

　　Wolf Larsen barked a short laugh in my ear and strode away to theweather side of the poop. I expected him to give orders for theGhost to heave to, but she kept on her course and he made no sign.Louis stood imperturbably at the wheel, but I noticed the groupedsailors forward turning troubled faces in our direction. Still theGhost tore along, till the boat dwindled to a speck, when WolfLarsen's voice rang out in command and he went about on thestarboard tack.

　　Back we held, two miles and more to windward of the strugglingcockle-shell, when the flying jib was run down and the schoonerhove to. The sealing boats are not made for windward work. Theirhope lies in keeping a weather position so that they may run beforethe wind for the schooner when it breezes up. But in all that wildwaste there was no refuge for Leach and Johnson save on the Ghost,and they resolutely began the windward beat. It was slow work inthe heavy sea that was running. At any moment they were liable tobe overwhelmed by the hissing combers. Time and again andcountless times we watched the boat luff into the big whitecaps,lose headway, and be flung back like a cork.

　　Johnson was a splendid seaman, and he knew as much about smallboats as he did about ships. At the end of an hour and a half hewas nearly alongside, standing past our stern on the last leg out,aiming to fetch us on the next leg back.

　　"So you've changed your mind?" I heard Wolf Larsen mutter, half tohimself, half to them as though they could hear. "You want to comeaboard, eh? Well, then, just keep a-coming."

　　"Hard up with that helm!" he commanded Oofty-Oofty, the Kanaka, whohad in the meantime relieved Louis at the wheel.

　　Command followed command. As the schooner paid off, the fore- andmain-sheets were slacked away for fair wind. And before the windwe were, and leaping, when Johnson, easing his sheet at imminentperil, cut across our wake a hundred feet away. Again Wolf Larsenlaughed, at the same time beckoning them with his arm to follow.It was evidently his intention to play with them, - a lesson, Itook it, in lieu of a beating, though a dangerous lesson, for thefrail craft stood in momentary danger of being overwhelmed.

　　Johnson squared away promptly and ran after us. There was nothingelse for him to do. Death stalked everywhere, and it was only amatter of time when some one of those many huge seas would fallupon the boat, roll over it, and pass on.

　　"'Tis the fear iv death at the hearts iv them," Louis muttered inmy ear, as I passed forward to see to taking in the flying jib andstaysail.

　　"Oh, he'll heave to in a little while and pick them up," I answeredcheerfully. "He's bent upon giving them a lesson, that's all."

　　Louis looked at me shrewdly. "Think so?" he asked.

　　"Surely," I answered. "Don't you?"

　　"I think nothing but iv my own skin, these days," was his answer."An' 'tis with wonder I'm filled as to the workin' out iv things.A pretty mess that 'Frisco whisky got me into, an' a prettier messthat woman's got you into aft there. Ah, it's myself that knows yefor a blitherin' fool."

　　"What do you mean?" I demanded; for, having sped his shaft, he wasturning away.

　　"What do I mean?" he cried. "And it's you that asks me! 'Tis notwhat I mean, but what the Wolf 'll mean. The Wolf, I said, theWolf!"

　　"If trouble comes, will you stand by?" I asked impulsively, for hehad voiced my own fear.

　　"Stand by? 'Tis old fat Louis I stand by, an' trouble enough it'llbe. We're at the beginnin' iv things, I'm tellin' ye, the barebeginnin' iv things."

　　"I had not thought you so great a coward," I sneered.

　　He favoured me with a contemptuous stare. "If I raised never ahand for that poor fool," - pointing astern to the tiny sail, -"d'ye think I'm hungerin' for a broken head for a woman I neverlaid me eyes upon before this day?"

　　I turned scornfully away and went aft.

　　"Better get in those topsails, Mr. Van Weyden," Wolf Larsen said,as I came on the poop.

　　I felt relief, at least as far as the two men were concerned. Itwas clear he did not wish to run too far away from them. I pickedup hope at the thought and put the order swiftly into execution. Ihad scarcely opened my mouth to issue the necessary commands, wheneager men were springing to halyards and downhauls, and others wereracing aloft. This eagerness on their part was noted by WolfLarsen with a grim smile.

　　Still we increased our lead, and when the boat had dropped asternseveral miles we hove to and waited. All eyes watched it coming,even Wolf Larsen's; but he was the only unperturbed man aboard.Louis, gazing fixedly, betrayed a trouble in his face he was notquite able to hide.

　　The boat drew closer and closer, hurling along through the seethinggreen like a thing alive, lifting and sending and uptossing acrossthe huge-backed breakers, or disappearing behind them only to rushinto sight again and shoot skyward. It seemed impossible that itcould continue to live, yet with each dizzying sweep it did achievethe impossible. A rain-squall drove past, and out of the flyingwet the boat emerged, almost upon us.

　　"Hard up, there!" Wolf Larsen shouted, himself springing to thewheel and whirling it over.

　　Again the Ghost sprang away and raced before the wind, and for twohours Johnson and Leach pursued us. We hove to and ran away, hoveto and ran away, and ever astern the struggling patch of sailtossed skyward and fell into the rushing valleys. It was a quarterof a mile away when a thick squall of rain veiled it from view. Itnever emerged. The wind blew the air clear again, but no patch ofsail broke the troubled surface. I thought I saw, for an instant,the boat's bottom show black in a breaking crest. At the best,that was all. For Johnson and Leach the travail of existence hadceased.

　　The men remained grouped amidships. No one had gone below, and noone was speaking. Nor were any looks being exchanged. Each manseemed stunned - deeply contemplative, as it were, and, not quitesure, trying to realize just what had taken place. Wolf Larsengave them little time for thought. He at once put the Ghost uponher course - a course which meant the seal herd and not Yokohamaharbour. But the men were no longer eager as they pulled andhauled, and I heard curses amongst them, which left their lipssmothered and as heavy and lifeless as were they. Not so was itwith the hunters. Smoke the irrepressible related a story, andthey descended into the steerage, bellowing with laughter.

　　As I passed to leeward of the galley on my way aft I was approachedby the engineer we had rescued. His face was white, his lips weretrembling.

　　"Good God! sir, what kind of a craft is this?" he cried.

　　"You have eyes, you have seen," I answered, almost brutally, whatof the pain and fear at my own heart.

　　"Your promise?" I said to Wolf Larsen.

　　"I was not thinking of taking them aboard when I made thatpromise," he answered. "And anyway, you'll agree I've not laid myhands upon them."

　　"Far from it, far from it," he laughed a moment later.

　　I made no reply. I was incapable of speaking, my mind was tooconfused. I must have time to think, I knew. This woman, sleepingeven now in the spare cabin, was a responsibility, which I mustconsider, and the only rational thought that flickered through mymind was that I must do nothing hastily if I were to be any help toher at all.